True Love Will Find You in the End
by ktfranceebee
Summary: Do to an extenuating amount of circumstances, Kurt has put on a few pounds. As if he wasn't self-conscious about it on his own, Blaine breaks up with him. Kurt finds that the people who accept him despite his faults are the ones who matter most.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. Yadda, yadda, yadda...

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><p>This story is in response to this prompt on the glee angst meme by Boys Should Kiss Boys More.<p>

http: / / glee-angst-meme. livejournal. com / 22143 . html ?thread= 13679487

I really wanted to fill this prompt, as a fellow chublet and someone who loves Kurt no matter what. I hope everyone, especially Boys Should Kiss More Boys, enjoys this.

And on another note, the title is from the song "True Love Will Find You in the End" by Daniel Johnston, and covered by Beck and Hey Marseilles (I learned of this song from an awesome Kurtofsky fanmix, so kudos to the person who made that. I can't remember who, though. Sorry!)

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><p><strong>True Love Will Find You in the End<strong>

By ktfranceebee

Chapter 1

It was the late afternoon that cold Saturday in early December. The house was empty save for Kurt who had taken residence in the kitchen. His family had gone out for the day—Finn to Rachel's house and Carole somehow managed to get his dad to tag along with her to the sixty percent off sale at her favorite clothing store. Kurt, however, was waiting for Blaine to arrive as he promised he would.

A whole week came and went since he last saw his boyfriend and this pattern was consistent since his return to the all-boys prep school almost a month ago. As much as Blaine proclaimed his love for him, Kurt couldn't—and didn't—hold Blaine culpable for wanting to go back to Dalton. Kurt remembered how he felt when he switched schools—how much he missed the friends he made during his first year of Glee club. It was for the best. Kurt didn't want Blaine to feel any contempt for him when he ultimately made the decision to attend McKinley. Kurt agreeing with Blaine's decision to transfer back may ultimately diverted their relationship from failure.

And absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?

Despite the ridiculously bitter cold outside, Kurt had to turn the temperature down on the thermostat. The heat of the oven provided enough warmth so that, not only did the delicious aromas of his baking waft through the house, but the warm, cozy heat, as well.

Just as Kurt was checking the progress of his latest creation through the oven door window, a polite knock sounded at the door. With an excited leap of his heart he checked the timer, and then his reflection, on the microwave. Just before running into the living room, he tossed the hand towel that was draped over his shoulder onto the kitchen counter, which was sticky in some places with sugary-dough fingerprints, and hastily fixed his disheveled hair.

Kurt felt his heart swoon as he took in the distorted and stylish figure of his boyfriend through the peephole. Throwing open the door, Kurt didn't waste any time or hide his enthusiasm at Blaine's arrival.

"Blaine!" Kurt cried as he hugged Blaine. Blaine, who Kurt was now squeezing tightly in his embrace, let out an "oomph!" upon impact.

"H-hey, Kurt," Blaine said weakly as he patted Kurt's back. Kurt laughed, not letting the fact it had been seven days since the last time he saw his boyfriend in person overshadow how awkward Blaine's demeanor was.

"Gosh," Kurt chuckled. "You make it sound like I hurt you." From behind them, a faint beep could be heard coming from the kitchen and through the front door that Kurt left ajar. The sound rattled Kurt and his hands shot to his mouth.

"Oh! My cookies! Come on in," Kurt said as he hurried inside. As Kurt turned around he missed the troubled look on Blaine's face and the way his eyes continued to travel down to his midsection.

"Please don't be burnt. Please don't be burnt." Kurt whispered the mantra to himself as he slipped on the oven mitts. As Blaine followed him into the kitchen, he took off his wool jacket and placed it carefully over the back of the kitchen chair.

"Kurt, I really wanted to..." Blaine started to say, but was interrupted by Kurt as he removed the treats from the oven.

"Would you look at these? They're perfect." Kurt practically moaned as he put the baking sheet full of the perfect concentric circles on the stove top.

"Yeah..." Blaine said dismissively as Kurt slipped off the oven mitts. "Look, Kurt I-"

"_These_..." Kurt began to say as he retrieved couple of plates from the cabinet. "Are double chocolate chip cookies. I saw the recipe online and they looked positively orgasmic. I knew I had to make them. Here, you have to try one before they cool and tell me what you-"

"Kurt! I don't want a cookie, okay!" Blaine burst. "I came here to talk to you."

Kurt regarded the serious look on Blaine's face with wide, confused eyes. Blaine never raised his voice to Kurt. Ever. Blaine sighed, guiltily rubbing a palm against his forehead.

"I... I thought you came here, b-because you miss me. You _always _come see me on Saturdays." Kurt attempted to smile but failed as his voice broke. "Because after-school Warbler practice used to be on Thursdays when I was at Dalton and we would hang out on Friday evenings but now you said Warbler meetings are on Fridays which is why we can't hang out on Friday evenings like we used to which is why you are here n—Why do you keep looking me like that?" Kurt accused him in a panicked voice. Kurt caught Blaine in the act this time as his dark brown eyes drifted downward.

"Kurt, I'm not looking at you in any particular way," Blaine said rationally. His hands were stretched, palm up, in front of him as if Kurt was some scared puppy he was attempting to placate.

"Then why are you acting like I'm about to blow up at any second?" Kurt asked in frustration. Blaine made his way around the island counter to stand next to Kurt. He brought his hands up along the sides of Kurt's upper arms and rubbed the fabric there in what night have been a soothing fashion-if it wasn't for the fact that he seemed to be trying to keep Kurt an arms length away. Kurt looked pointedly away from Blaine. His eyes were already dangerously red and he was pretty sure he would start crying if he were to make eye contact with Blaine and the overly empathetic look on his face; as if Kurt had already predicted the events that were about to take place.

"You know how much I love you, don't you, Kurt." Kurt finally looked at Blaine when he gave his shoulders a little squeeze. "You know that I care about you more than I ever thought I could care about another person." Kurt sniffed and didn't say anything in response to Blaine. It sounded more like a reminder than a question. Like a daily planner that had some mildly interesting "fact of the week" on the top of the page.

"You're breaking up with me," Kurt said simply. Blaine gaped wordlessly. Kurt nodded in acknowledgement as he gently removed himself from Blaine's grip.

"Kurt, I never meant—"

"Was there any reason behind this decision?"

"This wasn't premeditated, Kurt," Blaine said. Kurt could detect a nervous edge to his tone. He continued in a slow, cautious voice,"I think it's just taken the past couple months for it to click that we—"

"You did it again," Kurt said, his calm demeanor diminishing suddenly as his eyes flashed and his cheeks flushed angrily.

"Wha—"

"You keep looking down," Kurt accused him, covering his stomach with his hands protectively. "I'm not blind, Blaine. You keep looking down at… Oh my God." Kurt's eyes widened, hurt.

"Y-you think I'm... Fat." Kurt choked out.

"What? Kurt, what are you talking about, I don't think… That. _I don't_."

"That's what this is about. Because I've put on some _pounds_ on the past couple of months."

"This isn't healthy, Kurt," Blaine said in a gentle tone, as if the information itself wasn't enough to break Kurt.

"I knew it. Last week, when you didn't even want to… Even though we already…" He couldn't form the words that were flashing like a neon sign in his head. Just last week when Blaine came over, the way Blaine quickly pulled his hand out-much to Kurt's confusion and dismay-from where it sneaked underneath Kurt's shirt. It wasn't as though Kurt and Blaine never had sex before.

Not soon after Blaine detached his lips from his, at that time, he was making up some excuse about some lengthy English paper that he had to turn in by Monday, and he was gone. Everything that had occurred since Blaine's transfer made sense.

Blaine was disgusted by him.

"There are no Friday practices, are there?" Kurt whispered sadly. The echoing stillness of the house was palpable as Blaine held his breath before finally answering Kurt.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's him isn't it?" Kurt asked as a few fat tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. "This… This is just some excuse so that you could be with him. He's the reason you went back."

"Kurt, you have to understand that I would _never_ cheat on you. I love you, Kurt."

"_Don't." _Kurt held up a hand. "Don't say that to me like you actually _give_ a damn about my feelings. You don't. You've just been hanging out with your good buddy, Sebastion, talking about how much of a hippo your boyfriend is, is that it?"

"Kurt, please." Blaine's thick eyebrows creased miserably as he implored Kurt to hear him out. For somebody doing the breaking up, Kurt couldn't comprehend why Blaine was so upset about it.

"Get out of my house, Blaine," Kurt ordered in a frighteningly calm voice.

"I didn't want it to end like this, Kurt. You're my best fr—What are you doing?" Before Blaine knew what was happening, Kurt had taken the cookies and began chucking them at Blaine, not stopping despite the tears that blinded his vision. Not stopping until Blaine scrambled beyond the kitchen door, completely forgetting about his wool coat that was on the kitchen chair.

Kurt listened past his gasping sobs in order to hear the click of the front door shutting behind his ex's retreating form. Grabbing the loose end of the roll of paper towels on the counter, Kurt pulled on the sheet and tore, taking two squares too many and furiously scrubbed his face free of any evidence of his emotional upheaval as he heard Blaine's Volkswagen start up and pull away from his driveway. Kurt gripped the counter for support and he stared down at his nearly barren baking sheet that he had dropped back down on the counter after his assault by means of dessert. There were three of the sweets left, unharmed, on the pan. Kurt carefully stacked them one on top of the other with one hand before picking up the small tower and retreating from the kitchen and up the stairs to his room, leaving the chocolate disaster in his wake.

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><p><em><strong>Please Review!<strong>_


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee!

A/N: Again, this is in response to a prompt by _Boys Should Kiss Boys More. _And many apologies to her for posting this so late. This chapter, I should mention, has spoilers for Season 3!

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><p><strong><span>True Love Will Find You in the End<span>**

By ktfranceebee

Chapter 2

Kurt was not oblivious to the amount of weight he put on in the past three months. Twelve and a half pounds he was able to deduce—according to his electronic scale—that faithful morning he was unable to button-up his favorite pair of skinny jeans. He stared in abhor at the stupid analog screen between his feet after waiting impatiently for the numbers to pop up. He even went as far as to change the battery after seeing the ridiculously high number that he was not accustomed to seeing. It was a fairly new scale, but the generic battery inside it _must have_ gone bad since the time of its purchase.

Kurt realized there was nothing wrong with the scale as he reweighed himself after switching out the battery. This epiphany only resulted in Kurt opening and then chucking the device out his second floor bedroom window and onto the lawn below with an aggravated screech.

It was him—him and the stress from his campaign for Senior Class President, Glee Club practice, and trying to get accepted to NYADA—all while trying to maintain his nearly perfect grades. It was definitely taking a toll of his physical well-being. It didn't help that Halloween and Thanksgiving came and went, making it difficult to resist the delectable sweets and warm, sugary drinks that normally accompanied the cold winter holidays. As a result, Kurt had to pull his sewing machine out from the back of his closet in order to let out some of his clothes. He thought, just maybe, he could pull off wearing outfits from his freshman and sophomore year considering he still had a layer of soft baby fat at that time. But as it turned out, he had grown more in two years than could be considered humanly possible. He would rather walk around in the nude before wearing jeans four inches above the ankle. That would just be one more "thing" to add to the list of "things" that reminded him of his ex-boyfriend.

Now that his campaign was over and done with—with him coming in second place to Brittany—there was still his father's campaign to worry about. The fact that his dad was taking on such a huge responsibility, when it was only a little over a year since his heart attack, worried Kurt deeply. The easiest way to for Kurt to cope (after singing, of course) was cooking. He always enjoyed slaving over a hot stove, a behavior that he undoubtedly learned from his late mother. So what if he partook in the edible creations he made from time to time? Cookies, cakes, muffins and tarts that he would make for his whole family, mind you.

Now that Christmas was just around the corner (not that he or anyone in his family celebrated it in the traditional or literal sense of the holiday) the need for holiday-themed desserts was at its highest. Just that morning, Finn offhandedly mentioned to Kurt of his craving for gingerbread cookies, which immediately made Kurt's mouth water at the mere thought of them baking in the oven.

It didn't take Finn much prodding because Kurt drove to the grocery store as soon as he was able to throw on a sweatshirt and lace up his black leather combat boots. Ten minutes later, Kurt was standing in the middle of the baking aisle with a basket that contained palm-sized tin cookie cutters in the shape of little men. In his opposite hand was his iPhone that was opened up to a website that had a decent looking recipe for gingerbread cookies.

As Kurt picked out a bag of flour, an ingredient he was running dangerously low on, he turned his head only to see the back of a particularly lost-looking man who was staring piteously at the ready-made boxes of cakes and desserts. Kurt scoffed, shaking his head at the poor soul who either _A_, didn't have any patience to make something from scratch, or _B,_ the skill.

Kurt continued to watch the only other occupant of their heart-attack inducing aisle as he stalked towards the sugar that happened to be right next to the stranger. He went over his mental checklist, trying to remember if he needed any sugar. His memory, however, drew a blank and he came to the conclusion that he would rather be safe than sorry. The last thing he wanted was to go home to discover that he was out of sugar and have to drive back.

Kurt couldn't help but sense a slight familiarity associated with the man dressed in a black sweatshirt topped with a red and black checkered vest. He watched in amusement as the scruffy man muttered under his breath in annoyance as he picked up and inspected various boxes of cake mixture as if they had done him a personal disservice. As Kurt drew closer to the pink and white packages of cane sugar, he took notice of the discernible pair of arched eyebrows furrowing as he put one mixture down only to pick up the one next to it.

"Jesus, you'd think they'd run out of flavors of cake at one point." The man scoffed as he put the box back in the wrong place. Kurt gave a little appreciative laugh as he gently placed the package of sugar in the bottom of his basket and then froze. He looked back at the man who was beginning to grumble words to himself that Kurt could barely register like "crazy woman" and "the hell does she expect me to get?"

"Dave?" Kurt asked with a frown, inclining his head. The man-_nay_-teen turned his head confirming his suspicion that this was, in fact, Dave Karofsky standing in the same baking aisle as him.

"Kurt? Oh, wow, um..." Dave closed his eyes as his head rolled back on his shoulders as he laughed. He laughed at the odd circumstances of their meeting, as if this was an even stranger place to run into one another than _Scandals_was a couple months ago. "This is crazy."

"I'm sorry. I guess I didn't recognize you," Dave said genuinely once he recovered. The amused smile that graced his lips met his hazel eyes, causing them to sparkle with mirth. He seemed possibly even happier since the last time Kurt saw him.

Kurt froze suddenly with worry. He adjusted the basket in front of him self-consciously as he tried to escape the fear that was niggling in the pit of his stomach.

"What, um..." He licked his lips nervously. "Why _wouldn't_ you recognize me?"

Dave chuckled. Kurt tried to remind himself that there was no way that Dave could possibly know of Kurt's recent break up with his boyfriend and the reasons behind it. Despite how uncomfortable Kurt was feeling the past couple of months, Dave seemed blissfully unaware of what Kurt was trying to hide under his over-sized sweatshirt.

"I dunno," Dave said playfully, breaking Kurt out of his reverie. "Maybe because your hair isn't styled, for once." Dave reached out and gently tugged on a strand of hair that fell onto Kurt's forehead. Dave was right of course. Kurt wasn't planning on going anywhere that day until the prospect of fresh baked gingerbread cookies invaded his mind. And since his breakup with Blaine, he wasn't putting much effort into maintaining his usually fancy facade. When he left for the store he wasn't intending on running into anyone, let alone Dave.

Kurt's breath caught at Dave's tender action as he fiddled with the lock. Kurt was almost as mesmerized as Dave was. That is until Dave jerked his hand away from Kurt's face and stuffed it into his pocket. He looked down at his shoes. His face was an emotionless mask, as if belittling himself for his unthinking, yet rather brave, action. Immediately, the worry that perhaps his cheeks had become so chubby that Dave couldn't begin to recognize him drifted away.

"I, um..." Kurt started, taking in a shaking breath as he pushed the strand away shyly. The arm that was laced through the handles of the basket lowered to his side so that it was no longer hiding his stomach. "I could say the same thing about you," Kurt said with a tight smile. He nonchalantly regarded the products on the shelf next to him, touching the corner of one of the boxes Dave was looking at before just so he could have something to do. "Are you planning on hibernating during this winter break or..." He trailed off as Dave carefully regarded him. Dave broke into another laugh, the same laugh he emitted when Kurt said he looked like Yogi while they were under the dancing, neon lights of Lima's only gay bar.

"'S not like I'm in school right now." Dave shrugged as he ran a hand over his cheek. Kurt had a strange urge to reach out and replace Dave's larger hand with his own. Blaine's face always seemed to be shaved smooth and five o'clock shadow usually took more than a day for Kurt to produce. He could hear the scratchiness of it, even from where he was standing, and was curious as to what it would feel like under the smooth pads of his fingertips.

Dave leaned in closer to Kurt raising his eyebrows slightly, "I guess it kinda completes my whole "bear cub" look, don't you think?" Kurt shook his head in mock seriousness, trying to hide the smile behind his hand. It had been weeks since he was able to laugh this freely. It felt… Nice. For once his mind wasn't reeling with a million and one worries about school or Glee Club. So nice that he wasn't about to question that it was David that was making him laugh.

"So, would it be completely redundant to ask why you're here?" Dave asked pointing towards the basket in Kurt's arms.

"Finn wanted ginger beard cookies..." Dave frowned. "Gingerbread! Gingerbread cookies." Kurt pursed his lips as he blushed in horror. '_Anytime,' _Kurt thought, _'would be a good time to stop thinking about his five o'clock shadow.'_

"Um... 'Kay?" Dave narrowed his eyes slightly in suspicion, but let Kurt's little slip up go unmentioned.

"And what are _you_ doing here?" Kurt asked, quickly changing the topic to Dave. "No offense. You_ really_ don't seem like the baking type." Kurt crossed his arms in front of him, attempting to restore his bitchy façade once more.

Dave sighed, wearily, as he leaned back against the shelves, causing the products to be pushed back slightly. "You have _no_ idea. It's my mom," Dave rolled his eyes as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his unzipped vest again. "She wants me to bake a freaking cake for my sister's birthday this weekend. She's going like, bat shit crazy right now and freaking out because she doesn't have time to do it because of work. 'Says I should be able to do it since I'm '_not doing anything better with my time'_ now that I'm on break." Dave removed his hands from his pockets in order to make little air quotes with his fingers.

"You… You have a sister?" Kurt frowned. "I had no idea."

"I have _two_ sisters." Dave corrected him and Kurt raised his eyebrows, whistling. "I know right? You wanna trade for Hudson?" Dave laughed. "'S gotta be better than being bugged all the time with tea parties and make-overs."

"I'm not so sure." Kurt giggled behind his hand at the idea of Dave sitting in a small pink chair too big for him and drinking out of tiny little teacups. "The whole "tall" thing makes it difficult to find beds and ceilings that can comfortably contain Finn. He can be pain to accommodate sometimes." Kurt's lips twitched so Dave knew that he was joking.

"I don't know about that, but you don't know hell until you've stepped on a Barbie during the middle of the night while getting up to go take a piss."

"Perhaps you should talk to my dad." Kurt sighed, his eyes twinkling as he looked at Dave. "I heard he had to deal with the same problem."

"What?" Dave gave him a sidelong glance. "You...?"

"I'm alluding to Finn, obviously." Kurt nibbled his lip slightly as he waited for Dave's reaction, which turned out to be a full-blown bark of a laugh.

"You're hilarious, you know that?" Dave said, wiping his eyes which seemed to have collected some tears.

"So..." Kurt decided not to address Dave's compliment, but still felt the warmth of his appreciation down in his belly. "What you're trying to say is that you're a _terrible _cook and need the assistance of _world renowned_ chef in order to save you from the wrath of your... What was it?" Kurt tapped a finger to his chin in contemplation. "'_Bat shit crazy_' mother?"

"That pretty much sums it up." Dave grimaced looking akin to a sad puppy dog.

"And if _I_ were to offer my services?" Kurt asked coyly.

"Yeah, okay." Dave huffed. Kurt waited, standing patiently in front of Dave despite his dubious tone.

"Wait. You're serious?"

"Sure, why not? It's not like I have plans or anything."

"Kurt, I just..." Dave regarded him carefully as he moved away from the shelves he was leaning against. "I don't see how this is a good-"

"Is your family going to be home tomorrow?" Kurt asked calmly.

Dave seemed puzzled by the question, but answered Kurt anyway. "My parents are going to be at work and my sisters tend to go hang out with their friends that live down the street from us. Why?"

"Here," Kurt said, already playing around on his phone and bringing up the contacts. He handed it over to Dave. "Give me your phone number and I'll call you. We can figure out a time when I can come over, okay? Nobody has to know I'm there."

"I..." Dave was stunned and he looked at Kurt with nothing more than a look of awe on his face. "You _do _know you don't have to do this, right? You're the last person on this planet who should be doing _me _a favor," Dave finished the sentence with a mumble. He swallowed thickly as he punched his name and number into Kurt's phone anyway.

"'Tis the season for giving or... Whatever it is they say." Kurt waved his hand around as Dave huffed out a little laugh.

"You know you're really saving my ass," Dave said gratefully as he handed the phone back to Kurt.

"I can only imagine. By the way, don't worry about getting any of the ingredients for the cake. I'll take care of it. Your sister likes chocolate, right?"

"What sane child doesn't?"

"Touché. So I'll call you?" Kurt asked, smiling brightly.

"Sure." Dave nodded slightly. As Kurt walked past Dave in the other direction, Dave turned around and caught hold of Kurt's forearm in a gentle grip. Kurt looked down at Dave's hand and back into Dave's face which was incredibly close to his.

"What is it?" Dave let go of Kurt's arm quickly as he couldn't help but let his eyes flicker down in the direction of Kurt's lips.

"Thanks. I just wanted to say thanks."

"You're welcome, Dave," Kurt responded in kind as he turned around and walked away from Dave once more, this time without being stopped.

Kurt ducked his head as he hid his smile from the shoppers that passed him. He didn't care what his scale told him. This was the lightest he felt in weeks.

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><p><strong><em>Please Review!<em>**


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any of its characters.

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><p><strong>True Love Will Find You in the End<strong>

by ktfranceebee

Chapter 3

When Kurt woke up to a still house that Friday morning, he was not expecting to feel as much excitement towards the day's upcoming events as he actually did. After he slipped out of his toasty bed, he unplugged his phone from its charger and slipped it into the pocket of his pajama pants. He wasn't planning on calling Dave until a more decent hour. Kurt suspected that Dave was probably in the same state as Finn, as he heard the soft snores of his stepbrother while creeping past the closed bedroom door.

Once Kurt padded barefoot down the stairs and entered the kitchen, he cursed himself for not putting on a pair of slippers—or socks, in the very least.

The kitchen was freezing and the stone floor felt like ice as he walked over the threshold, leaving the fluffy carpet of the living room behind him. Kurt _did_ have Carole to be thankful for, however, as she made coffee for herself and her husband before they left for their respectable jobs and were nice enough to leave the rest of the pot for Kurt.

Kurt rubbed his hands together happily, and in an attempt to warm them up, as he opened the cabinet above the coffee maker and pulled out his favorite ceramic mug; a gift from Rachel on his seventeenth birthday. It was pale blue, and circling the bottom were little sculpted pink daisies. On the side, it simply read in purple lettering, "Ding Dong The Witch is Dead," and from underneath the handle were a pair of legs stuck out adorned with black and white stockings as well as ruby red slippers. He still smiled at the eccentricity of the design; if that wasn't a symbol of their friendship, he didn't know what was.

After pouring the dark, steaming brew into the vessel, he opened the refrigerator and pulled out his favorite French vanilla coffee creamer from the door and shut it behind him. Kurt popped the open the lid and splashed some of the heavenly scented flavoring into the coffee, watching it swirl together like murky clouds.

Finally, after grabbing a spoon from the silverware drawer and dunking it into the mug, Kurt picked up a yellow splenda packet and tore it open, dumping the contents into the drink.

As he idly stirred the hot liquid, Kurt spotted the plate of decorated gingerbread cookies that he made the day before and picked one up after deciding that he was not nearly hungry enough to make breakfast.

As Kurt sat down at the kitchen table, crossing his feet underneath him in an effort to seek refuge from the frigid floor, he thought about his run in with Dave the day before.

A couple of months had gone by since the last run in he had with the former McKinley Titan and it seemed a lot had changed since their brief exchange in that dingy bar. Kurt couldn't attribute it solely on the foreign scruff on the teen's face. He seemed more open, bright and, well, inviting, than when they were amongst their own in the safety of the small establishment that was Scandal's.

But it seemed that Dave wasn't the only one that had changed in those few months, Kurt thought morosely as he snapped the head off the gingerbread cookie. Dave didn't even recognize him. Kurt knew without a doubt that Dave had changed, but one would think that even a reformed bully would recognize the one they once went out of the way to terrorize.

Kurt couldn't lie to himself. The fact that Dave either didn't notice the weight he put on, or chose to ignore it entirely, made Kurt feel more at ease than he had been since his break up with Blaine. All he thought about, it seemed, was his falling off the wagon. He thought about the outfits they would have to wear at Sectionals coming up and how he would look in them. He thought about how his weight gain would affect his performing, physically and emotionally, and whether he would crumble under the stress of it all.

Before Kurt could think anything else of it he heard a stifled yawn and looked up to find Finn lumbering into the kitchen, stretching his arms over his head once he made it past the threshold.

"'Sway too early, dude," Finn grumbled as he scratched at his white cotton shirt. "What're you doing up so early?"

"It's almost nine." Kurt shrugged a shoulder as he dunked the decapitated head of the gingerbread man into the hot coffee. Finn looked around the bright kitchen blearily as Kurt popped the mushy piece into his mouth.

"Why don't you go back to sleep? It is break, after all." Kurt pointed out as he chewed. "Might as well indulge a little."

"Can't," Finn replied as he went to the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of orange juice. "Going to the shop today to help out. Need to make some money."

"Ah... I see you finally received the dreaded Rachel Berry Christmas list." Kurt raised his eyebrows, looking over at Finn expectantly as the other boy poured some juice into a glass.

"You know about that?" Finn frowned as he put the juice back in the fridge.

"Mmm..." Kurt set his mug down. "_Yes_, she may have consulted me on a few items. _You_ should be thankful. Apparently she found the body glitter that Robert Pattinson wore in _Twilight_ on eBay. The seller is asking for a hefty price. I was able to convince her to take that off the list as anybody could easily fraud that piece of merchandise." Finn gave Kurt and odd look from where he stood at the island. He raised his glass of juice to his mouth and took a sip before speaking once more.

"So what are you doing up so early?"

"I have plans," Kurt said patiently.

"_Really_?" Finn said as if impressed. "You haven't done anything except stay around the house and bake since Blaine..." Finn trailed off, looking extremely guilty as Kurt raised an eyebrow. Instead of getting mad, Kurt merely stood, brushing off a few crumbs that landed on his pajama shirt.

"I'm going to choose to ignore the name you mentioned, and instead, get ready for my day. But I will acknowledge the fact that you are right. I need to do something better with my time than mope around all day." Kurt gave Finn a simpering smile before picking up his cup of coffee and walking out the kitchen to go upstairs to get ready before going Dave's house.

Kurt didn't think it would be wise to let Finn know where he was going that afternoon; at least not yet. Kurt knew Dave had changed and didn't feel the least bit uncomfortable spending the day alone with him. By the time he was ready, Finn would have already left for work and Kurt would be able to scrounge up the items that he needed to take to Dave's for the cake they would be baking.

But until then, Kurt could look forward to spending a day with who he could consider a new friend and hold in his snicker as he manages to catch Finn whining _'What about breakfast?'_ as he made his way up the stairs.

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><p><strong><em>Sorry for the long wait and sorry for such a short chapter. The next one will be much longer.<em>**

**_Please Review!_**


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.

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><p><strong>True Love Will Find You in the End<strong>

By ktfranceebee

Chapter 4

Kurt breathed in the crisp, afternoon air as he opened the door to his Lincoln Navigator and hopped out. He smoothed down his navy and white cardigan, which creased slightly on the drive over, and adjusted the collar.

It was a beautiful day. The air was cool despite the sun shining brightly in the clear blue sky above, but that was Ohio for you. It was a perfect day… To spend indoors baking, that is.

Kurt shut the driver-side door and opened the backseat door on the same side. He was grateful to see that the two paper grocery bags that he loaded with his ingredients did not tip or spill on the ride over. He scooped up the bags into his arms, making sure that his car keys were still gripped safely in his hand so he wouldn't lock them inside the car, and shut the door behind him with a swish of his foot.

Kurt blindly made his way up the path to Dave's home, just barely able to see over the top of the brown bags.

From what he _could_ see, despite his limited field of vision, was how beautiful the Karofsky's house was. It had white paneling and pale, moss green trim on the shutters of the windows giving it a Colonial-American feel. Kurt made note of the steps leading up to a fairly spacious front porch so he wouldn't trip. Once he made it up the steps, he brought his knee up, adjusting the bags that were starting to slip. After he maintained his grip on the bulky bags, he stuck out his fore finger and rang the doorbell.

It didn't take long for Kurt to hear the growing sound of rather rushed footsteps on the other side of the door. As soon as the door opened, he was greeted by the cheerful looking visage of David whose expression quickly evolved into a confused frown.

"Kurt—Jesus... Why didn't you tell me you were bringing this much stuff? I would've helped you with it," Dave said as he automatically reached for the heavy bags that Kurt was struggling with.

"It's o—" Kurt's breath caught momentarily in his throat as Dave's knuckles grazed his chest. He was close. In fact, Dave's chin practically rested on the top of the paper bags, which were still in Kurt's grip. He was close enough for Kurt to see the dimple in his cheek as the corner of his mouth turned up in a playful smirk; close enough to be disappointed by the observation that he must have shaved that morning. But why that mattered so much to him, he wasn't sure.

"Well…" Kurt pressed his lips together in what he hoped wasn't a totally awkward smile as Dave pulled away, relieving Kurt of the weight of the bags. "You're helping me now so…" Kurt trailed off at the way a muscle jumped in Dave's forearm as he tightened his grip. He looked down at the keys in his hands wondering why he was completely flustered. He was fine that morning and on the drive over… In fact, he was the one who offered to come over and help Dave in the first place. But the startling notion that this was the first time he would spend an _extended_ amount of time in Dave's company, _alone_, made his heart thrum in an unexpected way.

"Your um…" Kurt cleared his throat as he pointed the tiny remote on his keys in the direction of his vehicle parked on the street. He pressed the lock button twice, and the resounding honk and blink of his headlights indicated that the car was secure.

"Your house is quite lovely," Kurt tried once again as he followed behind Dave, who was already walking past the threshold, into the house.

Dave chuckled appreciatively and said over his shoulder, "I'll be sure to let my know mom that you approve." Dave stopped shortly after Kurt made his way inside. After Kurt shut the door behind him, Dave nodded his head towards a coat stand in the corner by the window.

"You can hang your sweater up if you want," he said before turning back around and going through a door frame into another room.

"Um…" Kurt followed Dave into a large kitchen without taking the offer. His hands trailed down protectively over his stomach, resting on the scratchy material of his sweater. He wore it for a reason. It was from his sophomore year so it still fit him, plus it was long enough to cover his pear-shaped hips. But, as he looked down, Kurt wondered if going with stripes was a good decision. "I think I'll leave it on."

Dave scoffed as he set the bags on the marble counter, "Dude, we're baking a freaking cake. I mean… Suit yourself, but I'd rather wear something comfortable and wouldn't mind getting ruined."

Kurt looked at Dave who turned back around and was leaning, with his arms crossed in front of him, against the kitchen counter. For the first time since Dave opened the door, Kurt noticed what Dave was wearing. It seemed like the first time ever—besides that night at _Scandals_ when Dave was wearing that horrible jean jacket—that Kurt was seeing Dave in something other than his old letterman jacket or a god awful polo. He was wearing a simple, white, cotton t-shirt (_'probably just Hanes,' _Kurt thought to himself) as well as a comfortable looking pair of jeans and… Socks.

"You're not wearing shoes." Kurt pointed out, trying to stifle the giggle with his hand. Dave looked down at his feet, which were, in fact, covered with socks. He rolled his eyes humorously.

"Well, I do live here. You can take yours off too, if you like," Dave suggested jokingly, looking down at Kurt's favorite pair of white Doc Marten's. Kurt toyed with a button on his sweater as Dave raised his eyebrows.

"No, but thank you. But I guess I _will_ take this thing off," Kurt complied with a huff, undoing the few buttons on the front of the sweater. As he shrugged off the material, he heard Dave make a little cough before turning around towards the bags.

"You can just, uh… Put it on one of the chairs," Dave said, head ducked slightly as he strummed his fingers on the countertop.

Kurt hummed in acknowledgement as he neatly draped his sweater over the back of one of the white, wooden kitchen chairs. It really was more comfortable without it. Underneath the sweater he wore a dark blue, button up dress shirt and dog-printed scarf in the same color. Figuring that the kitchen would only heat up while they were cooking, and wanting to refrain from getting the sleeves messy, Kurt untied the scarf and slid it off, putting it on top of the sweater, and proceeded to pop open the buttons on his cuffs, and rolled the sleeves up to his elbow as he made his way towards Dave.

"So, you know I'm gonna have to—" Dave stopped talking as soon as Kurt reached his side. As he turned to look at Kurt, his eyebrows rose slightly and his mouth formed into a small "o" at the end of his broken sentence.

"What?" Kurt asked in regards to not only to his unfinished sentence and the fact that his eyes seemed to be darting around in his skull.

"I um… I was just going to say that I can pay you back for all this," Dave said, as he motioned towards the contents of the bags. He skimmed the items on top, not wanting to impose. The slight blush on his tan skin seemed to slip past Kurt.

"Nonsense," Kurt said waving him off as he pulled the bags closer to him as he started unloading the ingredients onto the countertop. "Oh! By the way," Kurt shot a warm smile up at him as he pulled out a small Tupperware container from the top of one of the bags. "These are for you."

Dave smiled warily as Kurt held out the container. "I may have had to beat Finn off of these before he ate them all, despite the fact that I made a surplus of them."

Kurt watched Dave out of his peripheral vision, lifting the lid off of the container while Kurt continued setting out his ingredients. Inside, Dave found a stack of about five gingerbread cookies that Kurt made the night before.

"Well, now I really feel like a dick. You're going to bake a cake for my sister's birthday and supply _me_ with cookies? I'm a terrible hostess." Dave sighed dramatically.

Kurt's lips twitched into an amused smile. "Well, I'm not baking this cake alone," Kurt said in a stern tone, jesting all the while. "You're going to help me."

"Aww… And here I thought I was going to be able to sit back and wa—eat cookies." He raised the container.

Kurt hummed disapprovingly, folding the empty paper bags neatly now that all the ingredients were laid out, "'Fraid not," he sighed. "Just think of yourself as my Sous-chef."

"So…" Dave said, picking up a cookie and inspecting the precise, icing design on it. "I'm like, the Anne Burrell to your Mario Batali?"

"You watch Iron Chef America, but you can't cook?" Kurt huffed, hands on his hips as he faced Dave who was relaxing against the island in the middle of the kitchen.

"Hey!" Dave said, pretending to be offended. He waved the cookie towards Kurt. "Riding a bike is a lot easier in theory."

"I can vouch for that," Kurt mumbled under his breath, remembering his thirteen-some botched bike riding attempts when he was a child. Louder, he added, "Just eat the cookie, David."

As Kurt checked the oven, without bothering to ask Dave (he had to assume he had free reign of the kitchen, if he was going to be baking in there), making sure there was nothing already inside, he heard a deep, and rather loud, appreciative groan coming from behind him.

"Oh… My God." Dave enunciated. Kurt couldn't help warm rush of appreciation as well as something else he couldn't quite place at the reaction elicited from Dave. Rather pleased with himself, he turned towards Dave whose eyes were closed in ecstasy.

"Good?" Kurt asked with a wide smile.

"Good?" Dave parroted as he chewed. "I'm pretty sure this is the best thing I ever tasted. Here," he picked up the container once more and held it out towards Kurt this time. "You have one."

Kurt chuckled and shook his head, "Thank you for the sentiment, but I know what they taste like."

"It's alright, there a couple a more in here just—"

"I don't want one, David," Kurt said harshly suprising Dave. Kurt took a breath, surprised and already guilty by his own outburst. All he thought about were the last, belittling words Blaine said to him.

"Okay," Dave said slowly as he put the half eaten cookie back in the container, replacing the lid as well.

"I'm sorry, I just—"

"It's okay, I shouldn't have pushed… That."

"I brought them for _you_—"

"And I already feel guilty for asking you to help."

"And we should probably just get started on the cake because we've been talking for a long time, already."

Kurt and Dave eventually stopped their "back-and-forth" to notice just how close they were standing next to each other and just how out of breath they were.

They were practically toe to toe before they stepped away from each other, both awkwardly clearing their throats as if they broke some sort of boundary that neither of them realized they shouldn't cross.

"You're right, um…" Dave gave him a weak smile. "Here… Just tell me what I need to do and I'll do it."

"Okay, well… First we want to preheat the oven to 325 degrees," Kurt said, turning the dial.

"You know, we already have a lot of these ingredients here… Wait… Why do you have M&M's and Kit Kats?" Dave raised an eyebrow as he held up one of the three orange, square packages.

"Trust me, David, I know what I'm doing," Kurt assured him before he continued. "We won't be using all of this. I'll just take home the rest. But was it alright to assume you have…" He withdrew a folded paper from his back pocket and read from it. "Milk, oil, salt, eggs, and sugar? It seemed silly to bring such widely used ingredients."

"Yeah, we've got those things here. Just let me get 'em," Dave said and as he made to squeeze around Kurt, he gently rested his hand just in between Kurt's shoulder blades. Kurt started, and with wide, confused eyes, he watched Dave as he went in the pantry.

Kurt knew about how much Dave had changed the past couple of months. How much more accepting of himself he was… How brave he was to make the decision, on his own, to go to a gay bar… But the biggest change, or realization, for Kurt seemed to be just how gentle and kind Dave really was underneath all of the false bravado.

He kept his eyes glued onto the door waiting for Dave to emerge, and when he did he was holding a bottle of canola oil, a canister of salt, and a package of sugar. His eyes then followed Dave, after he set the three containers down on the counter, as he went to the fridge.

Was it strange for him to be feeling this comfortable around Dave? Since his break up with Blaine, Kurt had been reduced to a hermit, moseying about the house and only replying to his family members with monosyllabic grunts. What was it about Dave that got him to laugh for the first time in weeks? to get him to waste time talking and joking around when they should already be preparing the frosting by now? that made his stomach swoop every time he touched him, when his own boyfriend, at the time, would cringe away from him?

_Oh…_

"And here are the last ingredients, Chef Hummel." Kurt's reverie was broken as Dave reappeared next to him with the milk and eggs. Dave grinned mischieveously at Kurt, unaware of the internal conflict he was facing.

"Thanks," Kurt said a little breathlessly before shaking his head.

No. No, this wouldn't do at all. It wasn't as though Dave_ liked_ him. Not like that.

And did _he_ even like Dave like _that_?

"You alright?" Dave asked, concern clearly written on his face.

"Yes, of course. I'm fine. We're just a bit behind schedule that's all."

"So, shall we?"

"Yes, well… We should really wash our hands, first." Kurt offered, already moving towards the kitchen sink. At this point, as Kurt turned on the faucet and pumped some of the soap onto his hand without waiting for Dave, he decided that it was best if he just avoided eye contact all together. If he didn't look at Dave, then the easier it would be for him to avoid thinking about what a nice smile he has, or the way his hazel eyes twinkled whenever he tried to get a rise out of Kurt.

_Dammit…_

Kurt moved his hands away from the flow of water when he realized that all the suds were gone, but only to be left looking around the area of the sink for a towel-a problem that was easily remedied when he looked to the left to see Dave standing there holding up a hand towel.

Kurt's original plan involving no unnecessary eye contact was quickly botched as Kurt gave Dave a shy smile, taking the towel from Dave to dry his hands and moving out of the way for Dave to wash his.

Kurt wasn't sure how much longer he would survive this arrangement, but it didn't matter much to him, as long as the cake made it out of the oven unscathed.

* * *

><p>So far, everything was going according to plan.<p>

The two layers of cake were already in the oven baking. As much as Kurt wanted to avoid facing whatever this… _Feeling..._ Was that he had for Dave, Kurt found it strange that it was Dave being the one distracting him from it. Kurt's confusion, however, would only come crashing down upon him in the silences where their laughter ceased but continued to echo off the walls and tiles of the kitchen.

They seemed to have worked out a system, though. Kurt measured out the ingredients and added them to the bowl as Dave folded them in together, and soon it seemed that Kurt felt like his cheeks were going to explode from laughing so hard at Dave's silly and often sarcastic comments. Kurt found he enjoyed seeing Dave flustered or aggravated, such as when Kurt handed over a box of chocolate cake mix to add to the bowl (_"Who the hells invents a recipe for cake that involves cake mix?"_). Or when Dave looked at Kurt like he'd grown a second head when he handed over the cup measurement of sour cream (_"It makes the cake denser, David!"_).

Everything seemed to be going smoothly until the two began making the frosting.

Or at least smoothly according to _Kurt._

Kurt had assigned Dave to microwaving the chocolate chips until they were melted while he used the electric mixer to beat the butter and cream cheese at medium speed. He seemed acutely aware of Dave on the other side of the room, checking and stirring the chocolate at thirty second intervals so it wouldn't get scorched and lumpy. After a minute and a half, Dave returned to Kurt who had already added the powdered sugar, milk, and vanilla extract into the bowl as well.

"Here we are," Dave said, holding the hot bowl with a flowery pink oven mitt.

"Cute," Kurt smirked giving Dave's gloved hand a quick glance as he continued to mix the creation.

"Glad you think so," Dave said without an ounce of malice.

"Here," Kurt said. He turned off the mixer and handed it over to Dave, making sure the whisks stayed in the bowl. "You do this, I am going to check the cakes."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dave interjected quickly. Kurt didn't think he's ever heard someone sound so scared about the prospect of mixing something. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Just add the chocolate to it, but make sure you do it slow; the chocolate is hot. You don't want to cook the cream cheese in the frosting."

So Dave added a little bit of the melted chocolate before turning on the mixer.

On_ High_.

Kurt was pretty sure he squealed as he felt the gooey substance hit his face.

Kurt held up his hands defensively. He was expecting a further onslaught of sugary frosting to come at him, but it seems that Dave was quick to switch the dial back over to _Off_. Kurt stood in the same position, palms up and away from his body and shoulders pulled in slightly. He continued to gape in surprise, his eyes screwed shut despite hearing the gasping breaths of the person standing next to him.

"Oh my God," Dave wheezed as he propped the mixer on top of the sturdy bowl. "I was _not_ expecting that." Dave supported his weight on against his knees as he continued to howl with laughter.

"I said… Slow," Kurt uttered, still stuck in the same dazed position.

"You said to add the chocolate slow, dork. You didn't say anything about the mixer." Dave rubbed his eye. Kurt began to think that maybe Dave got some frosting in his eye, but quickly realized that it was only tears. The front of Dave's shirt apparently got the brunt of the damage. If they were making a red frosting, it would have looked like it belonged in an evidence bag at a crime scene. The white frosting, however, looked fairly innocuous against the white shirt.

Kurt was happy to see, when he looked down, that his clothes were perfectly fine. There was just that sugary smidgen of frosting that seemed to have landed on his face.

"Kurt, here," Dave said, calming down slightly from the laughter. He picked up the towel that they used to dry there hands only earlier. "M'sorry."

"Is it bad?" Kurt asked, finally dropping his hands to allow Dave to clean him up. Kurt wondered if maybe some of the frosting flew into his hair, unnoticed.

"No, it's fine," Dave said softly as he wiped Kurt's cheek with an unnessary amount of concentration. "There was a reason I was buying cake mix at the store the other day… No electric mixers required." Kurt was wondering why they were speaking in such hushed tones. The tone of the kitchen was much more serious now than it was about thirty seconds ago-during the ruckus that ensued. Dave licked his lips and Kurt couldn't help staring at them; the way the pink flesh seemed to shine after his tongue darted over them.

"But we did use cake mix," Kurt replied in a quiet reminder. The air felt thick in the kitchen, and Kurt couldn't say it entirely had to do with the oven being on. His eyes felt heavy as well as he watch Dave's minute facial expressions from where he stood, standing _so_ close.

"S'part of the recipe," Dave pointed out, in a murmur.

Kurt swallowed thickly when he realized that he could feel little puffs of Dave's warm breath on his face… The way that the damp, soft towel that was stroking his cheek only moments before seemed to be replaced by the dry, rough pad of David's thumb. The towel slipped down in between their bodies, a victim of gravity, falling at their feet… And somehow Dave's broad hand found its way to Kurt's waist, squeezing gently at the soft flesh there, protruding slightly above his belt hugging his hips.

Kurt's eyes snapped open and stepped away from Dave, who seemed almost as confused and frightened as Kurt was, but for a different reason. Dave's hand seem to grip at the air where Kurt was just standing, as if befuddled by his sudden absence.

"I—Have to go," Kurt whispered. He stared at Dave's saddened eyes, not understanding how much they were a reflection of his own.

"Kurt…" Dave responded a similar hushed tone. The name he uttered rang in the quiet kitchen like an aching, unspecified plea.

The only answer that Kurt was able to give to Dave was '"_I can't"_ as he pushed past him, running towards the front door.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Wow, this chapter was a doozy to write. Mostly because I'm incredibly anxious for the next one. <strong>_

_**If you're wondering what outfit Kurt is wearing, you can refer to this pic. He wore this outfit in "Funk".**_

_**http : / / pics. livejournal . com / boysinperil / pic / 0001y9cz / s320x240**_

**_You will have to wait until the next chapter to see the cake... Patience loves. :)_**

**_Please Review!_**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I only wished I owned Glee... But, alas, I do not.

**A/N:** A lot of angsty-angst in this chapter. But that shouldn't last long.

* * *

><p><strong>True Love Will Find You in the End<strong>

By ktfranceebee

Chapter 5

As soon as Kurt stumbled out on the porch, he shut the door behind him and collapsed against it. It was only a door, but it kept him upright; kept him grounded. It was more than what could be said about his coping methods the last couple of weeks.

Dry sobs wracked his body as it shook and shuttered; little tremors spreading all way down to his fingertips. He wanted to close in upon himself—to do nothing more than curl up into a pathetic little ball consisting of his own stupidity until somebody found him. But the last thing he wanted was to be the subject of any more humiliation. He attracted enough of that on his own. Besides… It would be difficult explaining to one of the other four Karofskys why the chubby little gay boy was crying into their welcome mat.

Kurt closed his eyes and immediately felt the burning of the tears forming behind his eyelids. When it became too much, he let them open and a few, fat tears fell, heavy and fast, clinging to his bottom lashes before spilling onto his mottled-red cheeks. He gasped softly. The hand that was hanging limply at his side clawed at the door while the other rose to cover his mouth. He bit the soft flesh of his lower lip so none of his wet hiccups could possibly be heard from the other side of the door.

Kurt didn't think it was possible to feel such an onslaught of emotions at one time. As he pulled away from the door, he thought about the boy who didn't want him—the same boy who forgot his sweater at his house on the last day that he saw him. He never did return for it. Apparently it was worth the loss if it meant breaking up with Kurt.

Kurt unsteadily made his way to the steps at the front of the Karofsky's home and sat down upon the first of them. His mind didn't stay focused on the thought of Blaine for too long. It was quickly overpowered by another.

His focus drifted to the boy just on the other side of that door; the one he just fled from. He was having a difficult time understanding the events that just took place. Kurt could still feel the ghost of the hands upon his cheek and waist. It was strange how the touch of his hands were the antithesis of each other. One was exceedingly gentle as it brushed leisurely against his skin and the other, so unyielding… As if afraid that Kurt would vanish before him.

If that was, indeed, one of Dave's fears, then Kurt sure did a hell of a job helping him realize it.

Kurt rested his head on his knees—drawn up close to his body—in exhaustion. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he recalled how safe he felt, senses blissed out with nothing but David surrounding him.

He couldn't help feeling as though he screwed up everything in its entirety. It was obvious, now, that David had feelings for him. Whether these feeling were present at the time of their confrontation in the locker room, he couldn't be sure. He was sure, however, of _his _sudden feelings for David. Despite how, at the time, he was still in his relationship with Blaine, Dave seemed to be the main subject of his thoughts since he saw him at Scandals. Kurt often wondered how he was doing at his new school; if he came out to his friends or family yet. He really _had_ changed since that week of Junior Prom. But Dave didn't _know _Kurt anymore than Kurt knew Dave, and the sooner he realized that, the easier it would be for both of them to leave this strange situation with their hearts intact.

What was he able to give Dave when he clearly wasn't enough for Blaine?

Kurt noticed the light breeze that seemed to pick up while he and Dave were inside. The fluttery wind pulled in a few fluffy clouds as well, casting shade, quite fittingly, upon Kurt and his despondent thoughts. It was when he caught a bit of a chill and was picking at his rolled up sleeves—pulling them down over his goose-pimpled arms—that he heard a noise behind him.

Kurt froze in the midst of pulling down his second sleeve. He heard the click of a door knob turning, muffled slightly underneath the flesh of someone's palm, followed by the subtle creak of the door swinging open. Finally, he could feel the rather tentative, cumbersome footsteps upon the wooden planks of the porch.

Kurt's breath hitched as he felt something fluffy and warm encasing his shoulders, courtesy of the person standing behind him. Kurt was able to see, in his periphery, large hands upon either shoulder and, with them, the sweater that Kurt left on the chair in the Karofsky's kitchen.

Kurt trained his eyes on his knees as he felt them welling up at the gesture. David, despite having not received a response from Kurt, further adjusted the article of clothing. He pulled both sides of the collar underneath Kurt's chin and did his best to cover the exposed skin of his arms. Without saying a word, Kurt brought his hand up to clutch at the collar to prevent it from slipping off of his body, and as he did so his fingers caught Dave's momentarily.

Kurt turned his head and his eyes locked upon Dave's face, almost level with his from where he was crouching down next to him.

Kurt searched Dave's face only to find that his eyes, which sparkled magnificently while they were in the house, seemed to dull to an earthy brown. He watched the steady, and almost calculated clench of Dave's jaw and the tight set of his thin lips. Kurt parted his own lips slightly—to say what, he didn't know—as Dave looked off to the side, pulling his hand away from Kurt's. He was looking for something, and lo and behold he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a long piece of fabric… Kurt's scarf.

Kurt could see the noticeable up and down glide of Dave's Adam's apple as he toyed with the coarse threading of the accessory. Ever so tentatively, Dave brought the scarf up to one side of Kurt's neck, as if Kurt would either flinch or shoo him away. Instead, Kurt let his eyes flutter shut as the soft underside of Dave's wrist pressed lightly upon the juncture between Kurt's neck and jaw, just below his ear. Kurt felt the fabric drag against the hairs at the nape of his neck. He sucked at the slick inner flesh of his bottom lip as he felt the jostle of Dave's strong hands handling the delicate task of the scarf around Kurt's neck.

Kurt let out a little sigh, only for Dave's previous moves to cease and his hands to move away. Kurt opened his eyes and looked down to see the scarf tied into a knot similar to how it was before he took it off. The knot that Dave tied in the scarf was much looser, as if afraid of making it too tight or uncomfortable for him. To Kurt's dismay, Dave was no longer in front of him. Instead, he moved to the white porch railing. He slouched over it, leaning on his elbows and looking down at the neatly trimmed bushes below as Kurt studied his sad countenance.

Finally, Kurt looked away only to continue staring at the snowy-white fabric of his pants, and with a croak, he asked Dave, "How did you know I was out here?"

Slowly, and without a word or so much as looking at Kurt, Dave reached into the front pocket of his pants and, this time, pulled out a jingling set of keys.

"Left these on the counter," Dave said monotonously. Kurt turned his head to see Dave running his thumb over the ridged edge of one of the three keys.

"Oh," Kurt said quietly as he picked at a loose thread that poked out of the sleeve on his sweater.

After a few moments of nothing but the sound of distant laughter of children from somebody's backyard (Kurt wondered if any of those tinkling, carefree sounds could be from one or both of David's sisters), Dave finally spoke up.

"I'm sorry if I made an assumption," he began slowly, "but I sort of wanted to believe you weren't with that guy anymore; after all, he kept showing up at Scandal's with that other dude you two were with when I saw you that night."

Dave refused to look at Kurt and was still toying with the car keys in his hand. He could have just tossed them to Kurt when he came outside and told Kurt to stop moping around on his porch like a scolded child; but instead, he kept them on his person. He wanted to keep Kurt there, especially after he ran out once. He must have realized that Kurt had nowhere to run. So Dave followed him despite Kurt wanting to run away and not face his fears. Dave afforded Kurt the luxury that he, himself, had denied Dave of twice.

He went after Kurt.

And what was more, he went after Kurt wanting to explain himself and make things right once more in the belief that Kurt still had a boyfriend—even if it meant only salvaging their friendship.

"You assumed right." Kurt sniffed. He didn't miss the rapid movement of Dave's head turning in his direction.

The news about Blaine and Sebastian sneaking off to Scandals in secret was… Well… _News _to Kurt, but it wasn't surprising that it struck no painful chord within him. Kurt was done with Blaine. Has _been_ done for a long time; at least since the time Blaine didn't consider Kurt's feelings when he accepted the role of Tony…when he much rather dance with a boy who he just met rather than his own boyfriend sitting ten feet away… since the day he tried to get him to have sex in the back of his car… And after all of the above?

He was _done._

"Oh, awesome… So there's still enough bad blood between us that you would want to get as far away from me as possible when I tried to do something… _Nice_?"

It took Dave a while to find the right word, and when he did he threw his hands up in frustration. Kurt could think of a million-and-one other words better than "_nice_" to accurately describe Dave's actions in the kitchen; sweet, affectionate, romantic…

_Loving._

"That's not it at _all,_ David." Kurt rotated slightly, positioning his body on the steps so he could better see Dave. It hurt Kurt to think that Dave could still be beating himself up for the things he did the year before.

"I forgave you a long time ago. You were scared and didn't have anyone to turn to, and I see that now. I see how much you've changed. And frankly… I don't think I've ever been as proud of person as I'm proud of you."

Dave seemed to consider Kurt's words. His eyes softened as he looked down at Kurt who had one hand still clutching onto the sweater like it was a lifeline. His other hand found itself stretched out upon the wood surface of the porch next to him.

Kurt watched as Dave put the keys in his pocket once more, as if needing time to occupy himself as he contemplated what Kurt just said. Finally, Kurt caught the brief look of understanding flit across Dave's features as he gave the most imperceptible of nods.

Kurt pulled his hand back in his lap as Dave moved towards him before he finally, once close enough, lowered himself on the step next to Kurt, making sure to leave enough distance between the two of them.

"So, what's the problem?" Dave asked, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

It was strange how Dave seemed to be able to look right through him—to what was lying beneath the copious layers of clothes, accessories, and the intrusive layer of pudge that seemed to have accumulated around his already fairly soft belly, hips, and thighs.

"Why do you look at me like that?" Kurt asked in a frustrated tone as he turned his head away. He pulled the sweater protectively over him like a second skin.

"Like what?" Dave asked in a low voice. Kurt shook his head from where it was pressed against his shoulder farthest away from Dave. He closed his eyes tightly. He was _stronger_ than this.

"Like you're the most gorgeous guy I've ever seen?"

Kurt whimpered at the hushed words that came out of Dave's mouth. Those words, however, were quickly chased by a hand—cold in comparison to Kurt's face flushed with shame—cupping his jaw and concerned words slipping past his lips.

"Hey… Kurt, what…?"

"_Stop it_," Kurt hissed, shaking Dave off as he attempted to tilt his face towards him to get a better look at him.

"You don't… Stop acting like I'm not…" Kurt bowed his head and pinched his temples as tears began to fall from both eyes.

"Not what?" Dave challenged, a hint of aggravation coloring his voice.

"Not disgusting." Kurt turned on him, the rims of his eyes discolored red. "Not fat. Not though I didn't have to altar half of my wardrobe in order to fit into my clothes."

Dave's brows knitted together as Kurt sniffled and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. Kurt half-expected Dave's eyes to rake over his body. He expected some triumphant "a-ha!" moment of realization, but it didn't come. Dave's eyes stayed on his face.

"Where would you even get that? Did… Does this have to do with your ex? Did he say something to you?" Dave demanded furiously.

"Might as well have," Kurt responded in an undertone.

"Are you freaking kidding me?" Kurt looked to Dave to find him clenching his hands into fists on top of his knees.

"Wha—"

"He broke up with you, because what? Because you put on a little _weight_? It's almost fucking Christmas! Who _doesn't _gain weight around the holidays?"

Kurt listened to the sound of Dave's breathing, heavy from his rage. Once he calmed down, he was the first to speak.

"I feel really stupid asking you this but…Do you… Do you like me, or…?" Kurt moved his head a fraction up and down. He heard Dave draw in a deep breath and exhale it slowly.

"Do you… Like me?" Kurt asked Dave shyly. As he turned to look at Dave, he saw his face soften. Some of the gleam that was missing when he first came out onto the porch returned to his eyes.

"_Obviously_," Dave answered like this piece of information was already common knowledge. He scooted a little closer to Kurt so their knees touched.

"Is that why you ran out on me like that? Because you were afraid I thought the same thing?"

Kurt considered this for a moment. His bottom lip trembled and he sucked in a breath.

"I'm just so scared of letting something like that happen to me again." Kurt whispered. He shut his eyes and he felt Dave's hand upon his face again. He didn't try to shrug him off this time.

"Can I tell you something?" Dave asked soberly. Kurt could feel his thumb moving along his cheekbone, just like it did in the house after the frosting fiasco. Kurt nodded into the broad palm of his hand.

"There's this guy I know. Bravest guy I ever met, really," Dave said. The fondness in his voice was palpable.

"I really look up to him," Dave paused, before emitting a little humored laugh. "Even though he _is _shorter than me."

"I think when I first met him I… I dunno. I guess I tried to find reasons to hate him—like it would prevent me from ruminating in all these thoughts and feelings."

"All those things that I tried to dissect from his personality that make him who he is… Turns out I just liked those qualities the most. How proud he is, his ambition, how he didn't care what other people thought about him… And good God, his _voice._" Kurt watched Dave tell his story. He was able to catch the myriad of emotions darting across Dave's face from somberness, to amusement, until, finally, he cast a teasing look in Kurt's direction.

"_David_…" Kurt knew exactly who Dave was talking about. Kurt thought he would have run out of tears by now, but it was obvious that he had a few to spare.

"Wait a sec… Let me finish my story," Dave said mischievously. He leaned in towards Kurt and bumped his shoulder with his. Kurt gave Dave a watery smile and nodded.

"All those things aren't going to go away just because you gain a few pounds, Kurt. It doesn't change who you are as a person." Dave shrugged a shoulder before he continued.

"But if it's any consolation at all," Dave sighed. "You're still the hottest thing I've ever seen."

Kurt rolled his eyes and attempted to hide behind his hand from Dave's resolute gaze.

"I never felt that all that appealing to begin with," Kurt divulged honestly with a sigh, thinking about dancing in empty warehouses, gas pains, and practicing sultry faces in the mirror.

"Are you kidding?" Dave asked in an incredulous tone. Kurt gave a one shoulder shrug. Dave turned further towards Kurt as he tried to shift away.

"The way you'd always strut down the hall like you owned the place? Or the way you move when you're performing with the Glee Club? People would have to be insane to not see how sexy you…" Dave trailed off when he caught Kurt staring at him with a look of skepticism mingling with amusement.

"You look at me a lot, David?" Kurt asked bluntly. He coyly raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow.

"No, not… _No_." Kurt could see the tell-tale sign of the blush staining Dave's olive skin.

"I really care about you, David," Kurt said decidedly as he changed the subject. He inched his fingers towards Dave's, which were pressed flat upon the porch in the space between their bodies. Dave looked down at Kurt's hand and curled his middle finger up and over Kurt's.

"But…?" Dave added, knowing Kurt had a stipulation.

"_But_… I'm not ready to be with someone who won't want to be seen with me; even if it's for a completely _different_ reason." Dave gave Kurt a look of confusion.

"Why would I not want to be seen with you?" He drew his hand away.

"You know…" Kurt started tentatively. "Because you're not… Out… Yet. Right?" Kurt's eyes flickered across Dave's face. Dave was biting his lip, looking straight down at the steps in front of him as he attempted to fight the growing grin about to break out onto his face.

"No… You… David Karofsky, what are you not telling me?" Kurt demanded as he gave Dave a firm push against his bicep.

"Remember how I said I kind of admired you?" Dave asked shyly, rubbing his hands together.

"Oh, so you _were_ referring to me." Kurt huffed. Dave continued on, more entertained by Kurt's annoyance than offended.

"Well, I guess it was you who pretty much gave me that courage that I needed to tell my parents."

"They _know_?" Dave nodded. "Since when?"

"Try the morning after I saw you at Scandals," Dave revealed. He seemed to be having a hard time keeping the exhilaration out of his voice. That seemed to explain the newfound confidence and the way Dave seemed to hold himself now—to a higher esteem. Kurt bit his lip contemplatively.

"I really _am_ proud of you." Dave thought for a moment, as if considering for the first time how he truly felt.

"For the first time in a long time, I'm actually kind of proud of myself too," Dave said in a soft tone, as if he was surprised to be hearing himself say those words. But he sobered up and continued in a grave voice.

"I know I still have a long road ahead of me, Kurt, but… I know how much I care about you. How happy I am around you. And I know, if you let me, I could try my hardest to make you happy too, because I know… I know that I would never do anything to hurt you again. Ever." Dave rested his hand on top of the coarse material of Kurt's pants just above his knee, squeezing reassuringly.

"I know," Kurt said in a welcomed daze. Dave thought he was attractive—wanted to be with him. Kurt's heart fluttered at the barely-there feel of Dave's thumb moving back and forth across the material. Kurt tilted his head up only to find Dave looking at him like he really was the most gorgeous thing in the world.

Kurt lifted his hand slowly, pausing for a moment to judge Dave's reaction. Dave let his hand slip off Kurt's leg only for his opposite hand to meet the arm that was peeking out of Kurt's sweater. Dave let his hand rest gently upon the inside of Kurt's elbow before sliding it all the way up the length of his forearm until it reached the back of his hand.

"It's okay," Dave assured Kurt as he covered the back of his hand with his palm. He guided Kurt's hand toward him until it met Dave's cheek.

Kurt splayed his hand out on Dave's cheek, gliding his fingertips over his freckles. Dave closed his eyes as his hand dropped down, stroking at the silky flesh at Kurt's wrist while Kurt touched the corner of Dave's arched eyebrow.

"You shaved," Kurt uttered as his hand trailed down in the direction of where Dave's facial hair would be it he had not shaved that morning.

"Hmm…?" Dave could only hum contentedly, too mesmerized by the feel of Kurt's skin upon his.

"I distinctly recall you having a rather scrumptious looking beard yesterday." Kurt let go of his sweater and it immediately pooled around his waist and bottom. He turned, tucking one foot underneath the knee of his opposite leg to better face Dave. He lifted his other hand and positioned it on Dave's face so that it mirrored the other.

"Mmm," Dave groaned. Kurt couldn't help thinking how cute the little upturn of the corner of his mouth was when he smirked. "I'll have to remember that next time."

Kurt leaned forward, letting go of Dave's face and allowing his forearms to rest on Dave's broad shoulders.

"Next time, huh?" Kurt asked, letting his eyes drift shut. He could feel Dave's ragged breath upon his lips and wondered if he could feel just how close he was despite not having his eyes open to see him.

Before Dave could say anything else, Kurt pressed his lips against Dave's.

The kiss was cautious, to say the least. Kurt heard the uptake of breath filling Dave's lungs and he seemed afraid to move, as though Kurt would be quick to remember their first kiss and push him away. But as far as Kurt was concerned, he was kissing a completely different person. Despite everything that occurred the year before, they were both better people for it.

Kurt curled his arms around the back of Dave's neck. He marveled at the way Dave's lips seemed to fit perfectly with his. Kurt let the fingers of one hand toy with the hair at the back of Dave's head. Kurt bumped his nose against Dave's cheekbone, coaxing him to reciprocate. Finally, he felt a hand clutch at his waist and the other found its home upon Kurt's thigh once more.

Kurt regretfully pulled away from Dave, accepting the air into his burning lungs. He rested his forehead against Dave's, beaming.

"Next time," Dave said. Kurt had to think about what Dave was referring to as he was far too lost trying to count the different shades of green, alone, in his irises. Dave tilted his head up and placed a firm kiss on Kurt's widow's peak. Kurt ducked his head demurely.

Kurt untangled his arms, letting them trail down Dave's front before dropping them on top of his thigh.

Dave looked at Kurt as he reached into his pocket, pulling out the keys once more. He managed to keep the one hand still securely on Kurt's waist.

"You still wanna leave?" Dave dangled the keys from a finger in front of Kurt. Kurt quickly reached up and snatched them, not missing the look of disappointment forming on Dave's face. He quickly remedied the situation with a peck on his lips.

"Not a chance," Kurt said after he pulled away. He gathered up his sweater and pushed himself to his feet. "I'm hoping that chocolate didn't set. If not, we could probably reheat it or melt some more. And hopefully we have more icing left in the _bowl_ than what is on your_ shirt_." Kurt giggled, just noticing the dried on icing still on Dave's white shirt. Dave looked on at Kurt's sudden optimism with an amused smirk.

"And I'll be_ damned_ if we let those cakes burn. Come on, hurry up." Kurt held out his hand and Dave allowed him to help him up. "We've got a cake to finish.

* * *

><p>"That <em>has<em> to be the gayest looking cake I've ever seen," Dave said bluntly as he looked on, hands on his hips as he admired Kurt's handiwork. Kurt stood next to him, putting on a few more M&Ms on top of the cake. He was trying to make sure that there were no bare spots revealing the chocolate frosting underneath. Circling the dessert were the Kit Kats that Kurt brought, as well. "You sure it's not too much?"

"Shush, she's gonna love i—Hey!" As Kurt was carefully placing each M&M onto the cake, Dave reached into his hand and plucked up a few that were in a pile in his palm. Kurt pouted as Dave plopped them into his mouth as Kurt resumed to his work.

"Yeah, just what every thirteen year old girl wants for her birthday… Diabetes." Dave snorted.

"You asked for my help and I gave it to you," Kurt said with an upturned nose, pretending as though he wasn't offended. Dave noticed this quickly, however, and followed Kurt to where the paper bags were on the counter. "You should just thank your lucky stars the cake didn't burn while we were outside."

Kurt unfolded it and felt around the bottom like he was looking for something. As he did that, however, Dave snuck up behind and slid his arms around Kurt's waist and rested his head on the top of Kurt's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry I upset you, baby." Kurt knew Dave was only teasing him, but the "baby" part of that sentence made Kurt pause in his search. He never would have guessed that Dave would be into nicknames—and especially so soon.

It seems that Kurt was learning more and more about David by the minute. He couldn't the little flutter of hope in his belly hoping that the little sobriquet would turn up again sometime soon.

Eventually, Kurt found what he was looking for: A long, green and white polka-dotted ribbon. As he made his way back to the cake, Dave followed behind him without letting go. Kurt laughed as stepped in time with him.

"_No…_" Kurt bemoaned. His eyes were pinched shut from smiling so hard. "I can't work under these conditions!"

"You never know until you try."

Kurt pursed his lips in an attempt to control the smile burning his cheeks. It didn't help that Dave was now nuzzling his cheek with his nose.

Kurt wrapped the ribbon around the outside of the cake and tied it into a neat bow. The bow seemed to be what held it all together, but really… It just added to it. The cake held up fine on its own.

"There," Kurt said with an air of finality. He dropped his hands down to Dave's arms circling his waist. "Finished."

"It looks great, Kurt. Really." Kurt could feel the move of Dave's chin upon his shoulder as he talked.

"I'm really glad you're here," Dave said softly without waiting for Kurt to respond. He laid a gentle kiss on Kurt's cheek.

"I'm really glad I'm here too," Kurt replied in an equally hushed tone. He closed his eyes and leaned back into Dave, breathing in the scent of aftershave and sugary icing.

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><p><strong><em>Hopefully the ending of that one cheered you up some. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Looks like I just have the epilogue left! <em>**

**_Oh! And if you want to see a picture of the cake or want the recipe, you can go here:_**

**_http : / www. recipegirl. com/ 2011/ 11/ 02/ kit-kat-birthday-cake-and-a-recipe-girl-cookbook-deal/_**

**_Please review!_**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**: I don't own _Glee. _

**A/N: **A bit of a change in point of view for this chapter. Sorry if that bothers you.

Also, I lied. Or changed my mind for the third time. I said there would be only an epilogue left but everything that I had planned for the epilogue seemed really weird and disorganized so... I'm splitting it up! The next couple of chapters might be small but... Oh wells! More chubby!Kurt for my lover-ly readers.

You'll know when I get to the epilogue because there _will be smut._

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><p><strong> True Love Will Find You in the End<strong>

By ktfranceebee

Chapter 6

"You know you can stay a bit longer, if you want to," Dave offered as he shut the door behind him.

Dave was walking Kurt back to his car and was carrying the leftover ingredients in one of the brown paper bags. As he followed Kurt outside, he saw that the other boy was struggling to find the other armhole to his sweater. Without even thinking about it, Dave reached out with his unoccupied hand and lifted up the sweater so that Kurt was able to slip his arm into the sleeve. Kurt looked back, giving him a grateful smile as he pulled the sweater close.

The sun was beginning to droop lower and lower into the horizon. The orange glow that licked at the larger portion of blue sky gave the false impression that the air was warmer than it actually was. Dave—who much earlier slipped into a clean polo shirt that wasn't covered in icing—could already tell that it was going to be a frigid night as he could already feel the harsh nip of cold air on his bare arms. It was only about half past five and Dave told Kurt that his parents should be coming home soon. The older of his two younger sisters had called earlier to say that they would return home before dinner.

It wasn't as though Kurt didn't _want_ to meet the rest of the Karofskys (and re-meet Mr. Karofsky under better circumstances), but that day had been an eventful one, to say the least. He was exhausted and the thought of his warm and fluffy, queen-sized bed at home sounded more than welcoming. Kurt wouldn't be surprised if he were to call it a day and crash as soon as he got home.

"You know I would," Kurt said regretfully as he buttoned the front of his sweater. "But my dad doesn't even know I'm here. I don't want to worry him."

"And besides." Kurt pressed the button on the remote attached to the keychain, unlocking the door. "_You _were supposed to be making a cake for your sister's birthday today, not _we,_" Kurt chided Dave as he gave him a reprimanding look before going down the porch steps to his car. Dave followed shortly behind him.

"Eh… They're bound to find out sooner or later, once they see that I didn't manage to burn the house down."

Kurt opened the car door and moved out of the way so Dave could put the bag in the back seat. He rolled his eyes.

"I'm sure your cooking isn't _that_ bad. I doubt your mom would trust you with the task of baking a cake if she knew your cooking would result in a disaster of epic proportions." He inclined his head and added teasingly, "I thought you did great today with your… Stirring of ingredients. You only managed to ruin_ one_ shirt."

_'And look where it got us,' _Dave felt like saying. Kurt never would have run out of the house if it wasn't for the icing incident, and Kurt never would have known Dave's feelings for him if he never ran after him. He regarded Kurt and how positively radiant he looked, basked in the orange hue of dusk. He made the right choice-going after Kurt. Although it was obvious after five minutes of standing alone in the echoing silence of the kitchen that Kurt didn't truly leave. Dave never did hear the revving of an engine, followed by the squealing tires of Kurt peeling out of his neighborhood.

"You're right. I should cook for you sometime. I _want_ to cook for you sometime," Dave replied in sober tone as Kurt shut the door. He stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"You do?" Kurt's eyebrows lifted and smiled in surprise at Dave.

"Yeah," he affirmed.

Dave took one hand out of his pocket and reached for Kurt's elbow. He marveled at how freely he was able to touch this boy and the reassurance it gave him when he didn't flinch or try to pull away. He ran his fingertips over the fabric nonchalantly before gently tugging him closer. Kurt allowed Dave this, as well, and he placed his hand just above the crook of Dave's elbow. The other hand somehow found its way just above Dave's heart, sliding upwards to rest on his trapezius muscle. Even though it was through the fabric, Dave's skin tingled.

"I'll make you toast," Dave said seriously, as if it were a promise. His lips betrayed him, however, as they twitched into an amused smile. Kurt snorted and hid his face in Dave's chest as his shoulders shook. Dave rubbed the small of Kurt's back and _shh-ed_ Kurt in a barely restrained voice as he tried not to laugh.

"Lots and lots of toast." Dave paused before saying in a jokingly seductive whisper, "And macaroni and cheese."

Kurt pulled away from Dave only to sling his arms around Dave's neck, sighing. Dave himself snuggly wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist. The smolder of the sunset camouflaged the rosy hue of Kurt's cheeks, a result of his incessant smiling and chill from outside.

"And cake made from cake mix?" Kurt asked innocently as he tilted his head. Dave wondered sadly how anybody could not see how beautiful he was.

"And cake made from cake mix," Dave confirmed.

As Kurt's face inched closer towards Dave's, his hot breath mingling deliciously upon his lips, he noticed a figure over Kurt's shoulder standing not too far away from them. The older woman that Dave knew since he was ten years old was watching them with narrowed eyes, pretending to occupy herself as she covered the rosebushes in her yard with old sheets for that night's possible frost.

"Are you kidding me right now?" Dave mumbled in a angry tone, his grip around Kurt's waist loosening slightly. He didn't try to move away from Kurt, however.

"What is it?" Kurt asked in a confused tone as he opened his bleary eyes.

"Freaking wench that can't mind her own damn business," Dave growled as he turned his head slightly so she wouldn't be able to read his lips, even if she was a good thirty feet away. Dave could feel Kurt tense in his arms. The other boy let his arms drop down to Dave's sides as he discretely turned to look at Dave's nosey, grey-haired neighbor. She promptly looked down. She pursed her wrinkled lips as she unnecessarily adjusted one of the sheets that already covered the plant perfectly.

"Do you know her?" Kurt asked quietly as he turned back to face Dave. When he saw the muscle working furiously in Dave's jaw, he laid a soothing hand on his arm.

"Ms. Graves… Yeah… She's rather goody-goody with my mom although her fucking yorkie shits in our yard and I have to clean it up. Pretty much a neighborhood gossip."

"Oooh, how scandalous," Kurt practically purred as he shimmied his shoulders slightly. He turned around once more only to curl his in an elegant wave at the woman. Dave watched Kurt in a muddle of incredulity and amusement as her shoulders tensed and looked as though Kurt did her a personal disservice.

"You're amazing, you know that?" Dave said fondly. Kurt only shrugged.

"Kill 'em with kindness," Kurt said simply.

"You know what?" Dave inquired as Kurt turned back around. "I think we should give her something to talk about. Or at least set off her pacemaker."

"What're you-?" Kurt wasn't able to finish his question, and didn't need to. Dave didn't waste any time pulling Kurt into a searing kiss. His hand curled deftly around the back of Kurt's neck, his thumb strumming the short hairs at the back of his head. Kurt hummed, melting at the heat of Dave's body pressed wholly against his.

"She's going to be sorely disappointed when she finds out that this is nothing that your parents don't already know," Kurt mumbled against Dave's lips.

Dave himself could hear the harsh sound of a door slamming shut in the distance. He didn't bother in telling Kurt that it wouldn't just be his parents that she would be talking to, and with the mind-numbingly slow drag of Kurt's lips moving deliberately against his, he couldn't bring himself to care.

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><p><strong><em>Hope you enjoyed the fluff and FINALLY getting to see Dave's perspective on things.<em>**

**_Much love!_**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Glee._

**A/N: **Yay, for recyling OC's from one of my other Kurtofsky fics like the lazy bum that I am. :)

* * *

><p><strong>True Love Will Find You in the End<strong>

By ktfranceebee

Chapter 7

Kurt was lazing on his bed that Saturday afternoon, working the homework that his AP English teacher assigned to them during their winter break. With Christmas coming up next week, he was hoping to finish it early so he wouldn't have to worry about it when it came to celebrating the holiday (for him, in the non-traditional sense) with his family. This idea was cut short, however, as the soft music that was just playing through the speaker of his iPhone was interrupted by the melodic chimes of an incoming call.

He laid his pencil down neatly on top of the notebook he was writing in and picked up his phone. After he turned it around in the palm of his hand he smiled, biting his lip at the swell of fluttering butterflies in the pit of his stomach at the sight of the name on his screen. Swiping the screen with a finger, he rolled over onto his back before answering his _gentlemen caller_ in a fallaciously stern voice.

"Shouldn't you be participating in the festivities of pre-adolescent girlhood right about now?" He bit his lip coyly, not that anyone was there to see it.

_"Why hello to you, too." _Kurt could barely distinguish the sound of Dave's less-than-pleased tone on the other end. It literally sounded like Mr. and Mrs. Karofsky hired a circus troupe, petting zoo, and live music to the birthday party of one Miss Amy Karofsky.

"Aw, come on, Mister Grumpy-Gills. It can't be that bad," Kurt said, attempting to mollify David. Kurt wasn't about to admit it, but he couldn't say he was jealous of David, judging by the ruckus in the background.

"_You _really_ wouldn't be saying that if you were here right now. You know... __ When I turned thirteen, I think they booked the ice skating rink so me and my friends could play hockey. __They go _all _out because it's the kid's first year as a teenager. __What happened to 'middle-child syndrome'?" _Dave huffed out in what sounded like a single breath.

"Ohh, gosh. You know... It does sound a bit frightening on your end," Kurt surmised innocently as he scooted farther up, propping himself up against his pillow and crossed one leg over the other. He was trying his hardest not to find amusement in the drama queen personality that seemed to burst out of David like an agitated peacock.

"_In case you were wondering or seriously thinking about calling the police… Those high pitched squeals you're hearing right about now are not pigs being led to slaughter, but almost _all_ the girls in Amy's eighth grade class."_

"What is this?" Kurt gasped, feigning shock. "No boy's allowed? I've never heard of such blatant misandry!"

_"I'm not sure what that is, but no… No, there's some boys,"_ Dave stuttered nervously. _"But, um… Apparently Amy's _girl_friends have an eclectic taste in…"_ A pause._ "Older men?"_

It took Kurt a moment to realize that it wasn't the male head of the Karofsky household who Dave was referring to.

"_Oh_… Oh, David, I—" Kurt chortled, covering up the receiver so that Dave couldn't hear him as he rolled over onto his side in laughter.

"_This isn't _funny,_ Kurt. They're clingy and whiny and it doesn't help that my mom practically turned me into a maître d' -"_

"_Or_ the fact that you have killer biceps," Kurt contemplated aloud as he sat up again.

"_What?"_

"Hmm… Nothing!" Kurt said quickly. Kurt sighed, wiping a teardrop from the corner of his eye. "So, what would you like me to do?"

"_I don't know… You got any methods for keeping pubescent girls at bay?"_

Kurt tapped a finger to his chin.

"Other than sai swords that could possibly result in a lawsuit…? Mmm,_ no_. Can't say I can think of anything."

"_There's got to be…" _Dave's voice vanished from the leaving Kurt to listen to nothing but the chaos that was ensuing on the other end.

"Hello?" Kurt asked frantically, pressing the phone closer to his ear in an attempt to hear Dave.

"_I'm still here."_ The sound of Dave's voice assured him that the gaggle of twelve and thirteen year old girls had yet to succeed in their conquest to detain Dave. He sounded almost thoughtful, in Kurt's opinion.

"What is it?" Kurt asked as his curiosity started to get the best of him.

"_Well, I was just thinking I could…"_ Dave trailed off in a soft voice, leaving Kurt unable to hear what his plan of action was.

"I'm sorry, David, I didn't catch that over the sound of the _Kid's Bop_ playing in the background."

"_I _said,_ 'I could tell them I have a boyfriend,'"_ Dave said in a louder voice. Kurt was curious as to how many strange looks and raised eyebrows that were afforded to Dave. He heard Dave sigh softly and wondered if he already regretted what was said.

"B-boyfriend?" Kurt couldn't help but find his previous jovial charade hard to maintain upon hearing the word _boyfriend_. He attempted to continue it with an air of nonchalance.

"Yes, I… I suppose that could work but… Who is this boyfriend you're referring to?"

"_Kurt…"_ Dave moaned.

"Dave…" Kurt couldn't help mimicking him.

"_You're gonna make me say it, aren't you?"_

"Well, of course," Kurt said a little too breathlessly. "This sort of thing has to be stated explicitly, right? Otherwise we turn into Abbot and Costello and we don't know what on Earth's going on and—"

"_Kurt,"_ Dave said calmly, interrupting Kurt's mad rush of an explanation. He could practically hear his heart thudding anxiously in his chest.

"Yes?" Kurt asked tentatively. He cradled the phone to his ear as he sat up in a cross-legged position, as though it would help him hear what Dave had to ask him.

"_Will you... __Be my boyfriend?"_

Kurt blinked. He practically begged Dave to say it, but somehow he still wasn't quite prepared for the word. Not a month had gone by since his break up with Blaine. Hell, he and Dave had only been in each other's company for a couple of hours since Kurt ran into him at that seedy gay bar months ago. But _somehow_, despite all that… Everything felt right when he was with Dave.

Kurt liked the way Dave made him feel about himself, which was surprising to say the least considering how Dave was once in the long line of people who made him second guess himself and everything he stood for. But he, more than anyone, knew how quickly things were able to change. Finn went from being his crush to his lovable brother. Rachel was once his arch-enemy when it came to competing for solos, and now they were each other's song consultants and best friends. He wasn't about to get started on _Blaine._

Even more than the way Dave _liked_ and was _attracted_ to Kurt despite all of his extra baggage—pun intended—Kurt _liked _liking Dave.

The least they could do was _try._

"Of course I will, David. Good grief, you might as _well_ be a thirteen year old boy," he teased as he pretended to not be completely elated as a result of his consent.

"_Wait. Really_? _Hey, wait a minute!" _Dave cried on the other line as though he was literally emasculated at being likened to a broody middle-school boy.

"I'm going to go now, David. You enjoy your sister's party. Hope she likes the cake!" Kurt chirped as he pulled the phone away from his ear.

"_What? Kurt_—" Kurt could hear the gargled sound of David's voice just before he hung up his phone.

Kurt took a deep breath, waiting for the confirmation that David was no longer on the other line and, when he did, he squealed dropping the device in the empty space on the bed next to him.

A couple miles away, despite the fact that he was hung up on, David Karofsky smiled like a loon at his phone. It might not have been _his_ birthday, but he couldn't help feeling like he just received the best gift ever.

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><p><strong><em>More fluff! And a two chapters in two days? What is this madness?<em>**

**_And if you are wondering who "Abbot and Costello" are, they are comedians who gave us the classic "Who's On First?" skit way back in the forties and fifties._**

**_Much love for my lovely readers!_**


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